


Eventide

by Obidobe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Other, Rating up to change too, in a way i suppose, pairings to be added once I decide on them lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obidobe/pseuds/Obidobe
Summary: All Obi-wan wishes for, is for one mission to be on a planet that has no sunlight. Instead, they break down on one with TWO suns on a mission that has already gone sideways.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 75
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Or an au where I make Obi-wan very vampire-like, but without the whole undead part of it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It seemed like a good idea at the time. I hope it's alright lmao

Of all planets to have to emergency land on it just had to be one with TWO suns. Obi-wan squinted from under his hood, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Master Qui-gon and the handmaiden disappear over the sand dune toward the city. He hoped that they found whatever part they needed to fix the ship quickly, for the lesser time Obi-wan had to spend on such a bright planet the better. With a sigh, he turned on a heel and walked back into the ship. The ramp rose as soon as he was aboard. Walking to the small quarters that he and his Master were given to share while aboard, Obi-wan tried to ignore the uneasy gazes from the crew of the ship. For as long as he could remember, he had worn his robes this way, covering every bit of his skin to protect himself from sunlight. While it wasn’t abnormal to be given strange looks, if he thought about them too closely they still managed to get under his skin.

With the door locked behind him, Obi-wan softly lifted his hood, letting it fall against his back. Removing the mask from his face was easy with so many years of practice, but he took a deep breath the moment it was free. Over the years, the mask had transformed and shifted as his needs and face changed. As a young boy in the creche, wearing long sleeves with a hood attached was enough to protect him from his limited exposure to the sun through windows around the temple. As he grew and his education shifted, using a mask of the Temple Guards as a template, the quartermasters created a mask that fused to the cloth body suit he’d wear. His face had grown over the years and each time he had to get fitted for a new mask he kept the old ones in his room. 

He placed his mask on the small cot cut into the wall before unclasping each of his gloves. First by the elbow and the second by his wrist, willing his fingers until the leather came loose. It was only after the gloves were placed beside his mask did he continue on his way toward the refresher in the corner. Once the door had slid closed after him, he splashed water on his cheeks. Staring back at him in the mirror as he patted away the water was dark red hair and pale skin, oddly existing freckles splattered against his nose and cheeks. Master Qui-gon had always found them fascinating. Freckles were most often caused by the sun pigmentation of the skin, but Obi-wan’s body hadn’t been touched by real sun waves since he was a babe. Replacing the towel on the hook next to the sink, he headed back out to the main part of the room. Relaxing into meditation was easy, eyes closing and falling deep into the force almost like second nature. If luck permitted, the ship would be up and running by nightfall, and maybe Obi-wan could explore outside of the vessel uncovered for a few moments.

\-----

When Obi-wan had been asked to test the blood sample he knew they had picked up another passenger as soon as he sent back the results. He wasn’t sure what to expect as he kneeled in front of the small boy. Anakin Skywalker had a mop full of dusty blond hair and eyes so blue Obi-wan could only compare them to the water in the Room of a Thousand Fountains at the Temple. The boy was currently staring at him with those eyes so wide, Obi-wan wasn’t even sure he had blinked since he was introduced. “I’m Obi-wan Kenobi.” 

“You can call me Anakin.” His skin is bronze from the sunlight and his hand is small as he finally takes Obi-wan’s offered gloved one. He’s led away by Padmé to get something to eat, but Obi-wan doesn’t miss the way he looks back over his shoulder at him. There were still Jedi at the Temple who regarded him as Other when his coverings and mask were on, so he couldn't blame the boy for reacting as such. That didn't stop it from stinging for just a moment. 

“Don’t take it too personally, Padawan.” Qui-Gon’s large hand grasps his shoulder causing him to look up at him. “He’s probably never met someone like you.” 

“If he did, they were absolute idiots for living on this dust ball with two suns.” His Master quietly laughs as he guides him toward the way the young boy had disappeared to. They’d be on their way shortly, toward Coruscant. All he wanted to do was retire to their given room for the duration of their trip, but duty always came first.

\------

“Do you ever take them off?”

Obi-wan opens his eyes to find little Anakin sitting across from him, hair looking as if someone had attempted to tame it recently. His bright eyes are sparkling with curiosity, childlike wonder to his demeanor as he leans back on his feet. A smile pulls on Obi-wan’s lips, only visible by the way his eyes crinkle slightly. “I do. Times where they must be off like when I bathe or to sleep in a safe environment. When I’m at home in the Temple where natural light is limited I take them off too.”

“Why do you wear them?” Usually, such questions were invasive and made Obi-wan uncomfortable, but the small child was only intrigued, exploring something he had never encountered before. His words weren’t cruel, didn’t hold any malice intentions behind them. “Are you all scarred or something?” 

That certainly was the most common guess. The reasons why someone would make the choice to hide their body as Obi-wan did were varying, but hiding one's blemishes and faults had to be high up there. “My people, what I am, are extremely allergic to the sun. If I had walked out onto your home world without my coverings I would have burned to death.” Obi-wan held out his hand, smiling under his mask as Anakin’s fingers gingerly brushed against the soft, well worked leather of his right glove. “These wrappings protect me.”

Anakin’s lips were parted, eyes widened in amazement as he whispered, “Wizard.” 

“Would you like to see my face, Anakin?” There were very few creatures in the world who knew exactly what he looked like underneath everything. While most of the time at the Temple he tried to not have the mask on and just rely on his cloak for protection, only his closest friends knew him well enough. Still, he wasn't afraid or anxious about showing who he was, especially to someone as innocently curious as Anakin. 

“If it’s alright with you.” The boy looks at his hands, bottom lip jutted out unsure. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s alright.” When he had first gotten the hard mask, unclasping it had been difficult to understand. After years of doing so it was quite simple to push the very top edge until the clasp clicked open and he could pull the mask away. Next he gently pulled down the bottom part of the dark cloth and then removed the top, Obi-wan is met with Anakin a few inches from his face. Pushing down the initial panic of his space being invaded, he calmly asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you an angel?” 

“What?” Such an odd question from an odd individual. Granted where he’s from he’s probably never seen someone with such pale skin, not with the suns beating down in the middle of the desert planet. 

“Is that a yes?”

“No, Anakin, I’m not an angel.” 

“I always heard stories from the pilots back home of the angels of Iego. Of their beauty.” The boy fell back on his butt with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t believe you.” 

“I promise I am not an angel.” Outside of the closed door he can hear muffled voices and boots clanging against the metal of the floor beneath them. For a moment, he wonders if someone is going to come in, before the noises drift off. “If you have other questions, I’m more than happy to answer them.” 

“I have loads of questions like how did you find out the sun wasn’t your friend and what do you do if you’re outside all the time for like food and bathing? Are there others like you in the temple? Is this a Jedi thing or a you thing because I don’t have it so I couldn’t be a Jedi if that were the case? And how come you’re so pretty underneath it? Don’t you ever wish you could be in the sun and-”

Obi-wan softly grabbed the boy’s hand in between both of his, smiling as the boy finally stopped rambling to focus on him again. “I find shade if I can’t take them off. No there aren’t any others at the Temple like me. No, it’s not a Jedi ability, and I don’t quite know about the last two.” 

“Wizard.” 

He ran his hand through his hair, signing as his gloves scratched against his scalp. “I believe it’s best we head to bed. We have a big day awaiting once we arrive in Coruscant.” 

\-----

One more hour until they finally could leave hyperspace. Obi-wan ran his tongue softly over his growing fangs, flicking his eyes around the room. They had been gone from the Temple longer than this many times before, but usually, there were animals or markets were either his Master or himself could acquire food when he needed it. Obi-wan was aware of each person’s pulse in the room, the way their hearts pumped blood quickly through their bodies. He’d never lose control enough to act on his primal desires, but he still closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Fresh blood always smelled better than the bags he got at the Temple and humanoid blood was greater than that of an animal. Wookies were an odd mix of the two, and Obi-wan still wasn’t sure where he stood on that if he was honest. He opened his eyes when something wrapped around his arm. Looking down, he realized it was Anakin. 

He looked worried, but Obi-wan couldn’t figure out why. “Are you alright, Obi-wan?” 

“Oh,” How odd that the child could pick up something wasn’t perfectly well. “Just a bit hungry is all.” 

Anakin beamed, “There’s food on the ship! I can get you some if it makes you feel better.”

“That’s very sweet of you Anakin, but my diet is special. I must wait until we land.”

Obi-wan returned to watching his Master talk with the Queen across the room, one he knew now to be the handmaiden who went with Qui-Gon on Tatooine. Her heart pumped differently than the decoy they met on Naboo. It wasn’t until Anakin tugged on his arm again that he gave the boy his attention. “Do I have to eat a special diet if I become a Jedi?”

“No, Anakin.”

“Okay good because I want to try everything and that would be totally not Wizard.” 


	2. Chapter 2

When Obi-wan steps into the Council chamber he immediately notices the windows have been pulled shut and covered, the light in the room coming from the lamps along the walls. Master Yoda meets his gaze for a moment, a small smile and a twitch of his left ear, and Obi-wan bows his head in gratitude. He didn’t mind covering himself, but he liked feeling at home without them on. Master Yoda had always been so adamant about giving that to him when he could. Knowing he’s safe from being burned, Obi-wan lifts his hood from over his eyes and lets it fall onto his back. Anakin was standing in front of Master Qui-gon and when the little boy looked toward him, Obi-wan gave him a slight smile. Leaving the boy to the council’s test, he follows his Master out onto the balcony, pulling up his hood and hiding his hands in his sleeves. The sun is setting, but he didn’t want to take any chances. “Master, even if he passes the Council’s test, he won’t be trained. He’s far too old.” 

Qui-gon steps to the edge of the balcony, staring off at the busy lanes of hover cars of the city and the setting sun on the horizon. “Anakin will become a Jedi, Obi-wan. It’s his destiny.”

“And if they refuse? Destiny or not, the Council is to decide if he’s trained or not.” Walking until he’s parallel with his Master, he gazes under his cloak’s hem at the man’s profile. “You cannot go against them again, Master.” 

Obi-wan hated it when his Master got that special glint in his eye. It usually was followed by proverbial shit hitting the fan and a scolding from the Council. “I will do what I must, Obi-wan.” 

“You’d be on the Council if you only followed the Code closely. Why must you be like this?” 

“You still have much to learn, my young apprentice.” Qui-gon flashed a smile, still gazing out toward the horizon of the skyline, hands folded in his sleeves. “Someone must keep them on their toes, Obi-wan.” 

He was afraid Qui-gon would say something like that.

\------

Obi-wan barely keeps his eyes ahead on the Council when his Master practically denounced him as his padawan, all in his fight to take Anakin as his student. He can feel the gazes of the other Jedi in the room fall on him, as Mace Windu chides Qui-gon on his behavior and reminds him of the Padawan he already has. But that is too quiet to hear over the rush of blood in his ears and how he has to focus on not showing how the simple words hurt him so. He says something quickly, if Qui-gon believes him ready he agrees, but his heart feels like he’s in his throat. Reminded of a thirteen-year-old boy feeling like no one would ever want him. Maybe there really comes truth in those feelings. Before he could really dissect and digest how Qui-gon wanted to train Anakin so quickly after him, they’re ordered off to Naboo once again. If his Master tries to talk with him, he doesn’t remember, ignoring him to get ready for their trip.

\------

The dark sider reeks, Obi-wan’s nose scrunching as he can smell the almost rotting taste of the being’s blood. He put it off on how the force was murky around the man, dark and bubbling. Obi-wan’s vision is blurry and disoriented, ears ringing and the mask hanging half off his face. With a growl he flung his mask off, the substance cracked straight down the middle from the kick to the face that had sent him off the edge of the ramp to a few below. Luckily he had landed on his feet easily, quickly finding Qui-gon pushing the dark sider deeper into the room. Obi-wan knew he had to catch up. The dark sider separated them to make defeating them easier, and he couldn’t let his Master attempt this alone. Using the force, he propelled himself onto the ramp he had fallen from in the first place, sprinting to catch up to the fighting duo.

While there were disadvantages to what his species was, there were also advantages, added speed being one of them. As the ray shields around the reactor closed, he had made it to where there was only one between him and Qui-gon. He watched as his Master slowly fell to his knees, the force being pulled to him, and Obi-wan knew one way or another this was going to end soon. By the expression on the tattooed man’s face, he knew it too and he didn’t like how this was playing out. Obi-wan bounced on the balls of his feet as the first shield clicked open, Qui-gon immediately clashing sabers with the other man. As soon as the shield in front of him was gone, Obi-wan sprinted to join the fight, easily finding the Rhythm next to his Master. He managed to cut the man’s double-bladed lightsaber in half, one side crumbling onto the floor near the wall.

Being knocked into the pit was not on Obi-wan’s list of plans, but before the assassin could do anything to break his grip on the light Qui-gon was attacking again taking away his attention. He couldn’t see much of the fight, just feel the rumble in the air and hear the lightsabers clashing against one another, but he did feel the sharp pain through his and Qui-gon’s training bond. Rage filled his chest, bubbling over as he pulled himself out of the pit, tugging Qui-gon’s lightsaber into his hand and slicing the dark sider cleanly in half, left hip to the right shoulder. The last thing he knew of the attacker was him falling into the pit in two pieces, but Obi-wan paid that no attention as he slid onto his knees next to Qui-gon. The older man gasped in pain but his brows furrowed as he commented breathlessly, “Your mask is gone.” 

“It cracked.” Obi-wan pressed his lips together as he searched his Master for injuries. It seemed the pain he felt was the man’s right arm being cut just below the elbow and a cut into his abdomen. Both wounds were cauterized by the lightsaber that cut it. “Come now Master, we must get you help.”

If there was something Qui-gon wished to add, his lips closed once again as he nodded. “Help me stand.” 

Sure he’d have to fix his mask, once he retrieved it, but Obi-wan knew he could have lost a lot more than just a piece of clothing. For that, he was grateful. 

\------

Qui-gon was asleep in the med bay of Theed waiting for evacuation to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Anakin had practically begged to visit him and it was difficult to get the boy to leave the room to get some rest, or even eat, but when Obi-wan could he found the boy was a small shadow following him around. Master Yoda had paid Obi-wan a visit after the short briefing with Qui-gon before he went back to sleep from the painkillers they gave him. His Padawan braid was still hanging off his shoulder, waiting until the day Qui-gon was well enough to cut it for him, but he was a Jedi knight. Much had been said during that visit, including what the Council had planned for Anakin. 

His former Master had requested of him one thing in his pained delirium between the reactor and the medbay, to make sure Anakin would be trained. He had gone into his personal meeting with Master Yoda with an argument on the tip of his tongue to take him as a padawan, but in the end, his reasons aren’t needed.

The curtains of the room were pulled tightly shut, but even then Obi-wan stayed sitting on the bed where the sunlight had no chance of hitting him. Anakin was sprawled out on the floor, fiddling with some broken down droid he had been given by the Queen. Obi-wan lifted his head when the boy called his name, “Yes?”

“What’s to happen to me, Obi-wan?” 

Oh, had they really not told the boy of his fate? He put down his datapad and patted the bed beside him. “Come up here for a moment. I thought someone had told you.” 

It took a few moments, but Anakin managed to scramble up onto the way too plush bed to sit next to him. “They said they’d talk about it again but then we came here and Master Qui-gon was hurt and I don’t want to be returned to Tatooine.” 

“You won’t be.” Obi-wan sternly promised. “The Council has decided that you will be trained, but it’ll happen after a few years of you catching up on your studies. Then a Master can step forward and offer you an apprenticeship.” 

“I’ll be a Jedi?”

“Yes, Anakin. You’ll be a Jedi.”

\-------

From under the hood of his cloak, Obi-wan gives a glance towards the new Chancellor of the Republic. There’s something about the way he smells that’s familiar, unpleasant and slightly revolting. He can’t focus too much on the scent, it’s clouded by perfume and the presence of all these people at the celebrations. It’s faint, hovering under the surface as if he’s masking it with something stronger and potent. He’ll get to the answer eventually, he always did but the fact that he couldn't figure it out would bother him for the foreseeable future. He curls his arm tighter around Anakin’s young shoulders as the Chancellor leans down to address him. His words are kind in context, but the sound of his voice chills Obi-wan to his core. Something about the man’s interest in the young boy’s career doesn’t sit right with him at all.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Three years later  _

In the room of a Thousand Fountains, there was a pool shaded by thick, tall vegetation. A tree was close enough that Obi-wan could remove his cloak, roll up his pants after removing his boots, and lean against the trunk while his feet moved through the cool water. When he was younger, Bant had snuck down here at night to teach him how to swim. There were swim classes of course, but to take them he had to wear his coverings and as a little boy he was often teased for it. Over the years the ability has helped him in various ways, but being able to feel the water against bare skin was a luxury he rarely was able to do outside of this pool. A smile pulled on his lips when he heard someone coming through the brush. The datapad he was reading from was already laid further from the water before the branches falling into the dirt path were pushed away. “Hello, Anakin.” 

Even with the little time he had known the boy and the time between his missions as a knight, Anakin's signature in the force had become a bright familiarity .  “You said you’d wait for me!” 

“I did. I’m not swimming yet.” The boy’s sandy blond hair had managed to go astray even with how short it was cut against his scalp. Anakin stumbled as he tried to remove his boots before his balance was steady enough on one foot, flashing a shy smile as he straightened. “How are your lessons?” 

“Good I guess.” He plopped back on the grass, wiggling out of his socks and huffing as the garment finally popped off each foot. “Master Qui-gon says I’ve learned a lot since coming here and that I should be ready for the gathering soon.” 

“Do you believe yourself to be ready?” For that first year, it was hard for Anakin to make friends in the creche, and to make it easier on him Obi-wan had given him his com frequency to talk to him while he was on missions. During that time, he had learned many things about Anakin. Including his fear over messing up so badly he wasn't allowed to be a Jedi.

Anakin’s bottom lip jutted out as he laid his chin on his right fist. Obi-wan smiled, knowing the boy was thinking. “I want to be. I hope soon a Master steps forward wanting to train me. Master Yoda is worried about my anger.” 

“I was angry at your age too.” He raised his eyebrows as Anakin scoffed at him. “What? I was.” 

“I don’t believe you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry.” After a moment, Anakin grinned, “Besides that one time they were out of O blood.” 

"Firstly, Let's just say I wouldn't be where I am now without Yoda meddling." Obi-wan nudged Anakin's shoulder with his elbow softly, “And Secondly, I thought we agreed to never speak of that.”

Anakin softly giggled, settling his boots and socks neatly behind him by the tree trunk. “Who knew how much AB blood displeases you.”

“Besides you must know Master Qui-gon wishes to train you.” 

Anakin carefully puts his bare feet into the cool water, moving his legs as he leans back on his hands. His gaze is on the way the water ripples with his movements, and Obi-wan leans forward a little to look at his face as Anakin quietly admits, “I’m not sure I want him to train me.” 

“May I ask why?” His own relationship with the Master was rocky at best, but he felt it was getting better now that he was no longer Qui-gon's padawan.

“I know I have a lot to thank him for, he found me and brought me here, but,” Anakin gave a slight glance at him, a flick of his eyes before they were down at his hands again. “He keeps referring to the prophecy and being the chosen one and I don’t know if I want all that pressure.” 

“You can only be who you are, Anakin. Whether my former Master is correct about the prophecy or not, you cannot be something you aren’t.” He reached over to gently squeeze a knee. “So don’t force yourself to be something they wish you to be. Alright?”

Anakin took a deep breath, bottom lip popping back out from where it had been held by his teeth. “Alright.” 

“If Master Qui-gon isn’t the right person to train you, the right one will step forward. I have faith, Anakin.” Curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt, Obi-wan lifted it away, tossing it over by the discarded datapad and beaming at the young boy next to him. He pushed off the bank of the water, letting his head fall under the surface to wet his hair. Anakin was sitting upon his knees, fingers curling into the soft dirt when Obi-wan opened his eyes again. Pushing his hair back from his face and wiping the water dripping into his eyes, he studied Anakin for a moment. “Are you ready for today’s lesson?” 

It had taken embarrassingly long for Obi-wan to realize that the boy didn’t know how to swim. Coming from an entirely desert planet he was a boy who had just started to take more than a few minute showers because he thought it was a waste of such a valuable resource. Now when Obi-wan was at the temple between missions he made time to teach the boy how to swim. “Yeah.” 

He knew Anakin was getting better with his fear when the boy stood and cannonballed straight into the once serene water. 

\------

The stars above were almost outshined by the brightness of the city around and below them. Obi-wan leaned back on the blanket Anakin had brought with him, casting a glance at the boy across the way. This late at night Anakin should be in bed, but Obi-wan was set to leave for a mission in the very early morning light. He wanted to say goodbye. “Must you go?”

“Duty calls. Fortunately, it seems like a very straightforward mission. I’ll be back soon.”

“But you just returned.”

“New knights are rarely ever at the temple for very long. I like keeping busy.” He reached behind him for the small wrapped treat he had gotten Anakin in the market earlier that day. Placing it on the boy’s thigh, he returned his hands in a clap resting in his lap. “You should probably return to your room, Anakin. It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay a few more minutes?” There was a bit of jam still on Anakin’s bottom lip, eyes as big as he could get them as he twisted to look at Obi-wan fully. 

He knew he should tell him no, but what was a few more minutes? What harm could that do? “Alright, Anakin. A few more minutes.”

A few more minutes turned into the boy falling asleep with his cheek squished on Obi-wan’s thigh. No-one stopped and asked him any questions as he carried Anakin tight against his chest back to his bed, tucking him in and putting the half-eaten sweet wrapped once again next to the bed for him when he woke up.

\-----

Obi-wan was on his way back escorting Senator Organa back to Coruscant when his com chirped with a message missed in hyperspace. Once the ship had landed and he bid his goodbyes to the Senator, he stepped aside to listen. Apparently the High Council had an urgent need for his presence. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred on the simple guard duty of his mission for there to be urgency in the need for his report. Regardless, he sighed and made his way to find transportation to the Temple. In the short time it took to arrive, he gazed around at the way the sun reflected off of the buildings of the city. Coruscant was beautiful in a way, sparkling views if you didn’t go into the lower levels. He had hoped to return to his room and remove his coverings. Alderaan was a beautiful planet, but the sunlight was bright and he always had to be ready to guard the Senator even on his home planet. That meant keeping on his coverings even in his sleep, just in case he had to leave in protection at a moment’s notice. Apparently, he would have to wait a little longer for that luxury. 

When Obi-wan finally stepped into the Council room he was surprised to find Anakin and Qui-gon standing in the center of the room. Flicking his eyes from the duo, he bowed in greeting, “Masters. You summoned me?” 

“Summoned you, we did.” Yoda’s ears twitch a little as his old gaze fell on Obi-wan. “Completed the gathering, Young Anakin has.” 

While proud, confusion flickered over his expression as he folded his hands in the sleeves of his robe. “I am sorry, Master, but I seemed to have gotten lost. What does that have to do with the urgency I was requested here?”

“Stepped forward to train him, your former Master has. Refused he was.” 

Obi-wan took that moment to look over at the two people standing beside him. Anakin was big eyes and mop of hair as always, trying his best to stay still. It was Qui-gon that puzzled him. The force around him was strange in a way Obi-wan couldn’t place. Turning back to the grandmaster, Obi-wan opened his mouth before promptly closing it. It took a few moments for him to ask, “Why has the Council refused him?”

Yoda shook his head, small hands gripping his cane laying over his lap. “Refuse him, we did not. Anakin, it was.” 

Mace Windu cleared his throat, catching the attention in the room. Obi-wan had seen the dark Master smiling and laughing as they dueled, making jokes with the younglings in the creche, and still seeing him in the Council Chambers Obi-wan felt like his gaze was full of judgment cutting straight through him. “The Council had agreed for Skywalker to become Qui-gon’s padawan, but the boy refused.” 

It was then Anakin stepped away from the taller Jedi, smiling as he took Obi-wan’s hand. His voice was soft and almost timid as every eye in the room fell on him. “Will you train me, Obi-wan?” 

It dawned on Obi-wan then he should have known was this was about the moment he saw Qui-gon and Anakin in the center of the room. His former Master had talked about the desire to take Anakin as his padawan many times since he had been dismissed from the Halls of Healing, each time he requested the Council refused on the basis the boy wasn’t ready. While he also knew that Anakin was hesitant to accept the pressure it meant to be Qui-gon’s padawan, the boy had wanted to become a Jedi and Obi-wan wasn’t sure he’d risk refusing the offer if it meant not reaching that dream. He cared for Anakin, and a part of him was afraid of how that could grow into an attachment, but he knew that even if someone else trained him he’d care. 

“I’d be honored to have you as my first Padawan, Anakin.” He turned completely to him, smiling as he covered both of Anakin’s hands into his own. Letting them go and stepping behind him, hands on the boy’s shoulders, Obi-wan addressed the Council. “If my Masters agree.” 

Yoda made a noise that he’d describe as a giggle. “Already come to a decision, we have. Your Padawan learner, Anakin Skywalker will be.” 

\-----


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin didn’t have many things to bring with him when they moved him into his new room of a padawan learner. Jedi didn’t hold many materialistic things close, but in Obi-wan’s own rooms he had a few trinkets from his travels. Such as the river stone and the very first plant Qui-gon had gifted him, and the shawl Satine gave him while on the run protecting her when his mask had failed. Anakin had the brown, barely sewed together bear he brought with him his mother gave him. Obi-wan knew the Creche had tried their best to take the stuffed animal from the boy many times, and while he himself could attempt to do so, he didn’t have the heart to try. The few years he spent with the other initiates his age had done wonders on the high levels of anger he had, as did the mind healers he went to once every two weeks. Obi-wan knew Anakin missed his mother still, especially at night, but he knew deep down forcing him to ignore those feelings would turn out badly.

It was the first few days of hopefully years of learning together, but Obi-wan felt at ease as he bid the boy goodnight and headed to his own room down the hall. Anakin knew where his room was located if he ever needed him, even if he rebuffed the possibility of ever needing to use the knowledge. He grabbed a pack of blood from the very small refrigeration unit in the corner and settled on his bed. He hadn’t even gotten his feet up off the floor before his door chimed. Cocking his head to the side for a moment he realized who it was. He waved his former Master into the room, too comfy and becoming too full to worry about getting up. Qui-gon rose his eyebrow as he stepped into the room, his looming figure making the small living quarters appear even smaller. “Did you just use the force uselessly?” 

“I allowed you into my room; therefore, it had a use, Master.” He grinned before sipping at his straw. Obi-wan could remember how self-conscious he used to be about feeding in front of other people, especially when he was a youngling in the creche, but he had grown to overcome that. Qui-gon had seen him feed more than anyone else, it was almost comforting with him there. “What do I owe this visit?” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for the responsibility of training, Anakin?”

Obi-wan lowered the pack of blood slowly until it was resting in the space between his barely parted legs, an eyebrow raised. “Do you not believe I am capable of taking a padawan? Do you think I’m not ready?” 

“You are a fine Knight, Obi-wan and you’ll make a fine Master to any Padawan you choose, but we both know Anakin isn’t a simple Padawan.”

“Have you thought that perhaps that is the reason Anakin refused your offer?” He brought his legs in, bending at the knees and putting his feet together on the mattress. He knew that Anakin was special, whether that meant he was the chosen one or not. The boy would require a different approach than his own apprenticeship had been, but that didn’t mean that someone else was more qualified than him to give it. “That may be putting the pressure of being the destined chosen one on a twelve-year-old’s shoulders was probably not the best idea?” 

“Obi-wan I just want what’s best for the both of you.” 

“You must allow me to succeed or fail on my own. Anakin is my padawan and I will train him to the best of my ability. You have to trust me, Master.”

\-----

In one of the training rooms, the blinds pulled down and the door closed, Anakin sat across from Obi-wan. Their knees were touching as they sat with their legs crisscrossed before them, eyes closed and hands resting on their thighs. Anakin enjoyed it when Obi-wan could go without his coverings. While it wasn’t off-putting to speak to the man’s mask, Anakin would rather look at his actual face whenever he could. “Concentrate, Anakin.”

“I am trying.”

When Obi-wan deeply sighed, Anakin opened his eyes to find the man’s gaze already on him. “Where is your mind at, Padawan?” 

There were many things. Food, his mother and how much he missed her, how restless he felt, and a few about Obi-wan himself. Before Anakin could stop himself a question was blurted out. “Do many people really know what you look like?” 

“Anakin! That’s hardly relevant.” 

“Just curious. Sorry, Obi-wan.” If there was one thing Anakin was the most relieved with, was that Obi-wan never forced him to call him Master. He did request that when in the presence of other members of the order that he addresses other Jedi with their respective titles. While he knew that the word wasn’t meant in the way he had known for the first nine years of his life, it still twisted his stomach uncomfortably to think about referring to Obi-wan with it. If he ever felt comfortable with referring to him with the title, Obi-wan would welcome it, but if he never did that was alright too.

“It’s alright,” Obi-wan huffed as he rolled his shoulders. “But to answer your question, not many outside of the Temple.”

“Do you ever wish you could feel the sun?” 

“Sometimes.” He could tell Obi-wan was telling the truth, but he also had no reason to think the man would lie. “When I was a child in the creche, the other younglings would play tag in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, but I could never play unless I was covered. The sun seems so warm you know, and not suffocating like it feels when I’m protected.” 

The conversation was interrupted by Obi-wan’s com peeping on his wrist. He sighed before answering, “Knight Kenobi here.” 

_ “Your Padawan has been requested by the Chancellor.” _ Came Mace Windu’s monotone voice. 

“What for?” 

“ _ He did not say. He has requested his presence before, but you know that younglings aren’t allowed out of the temple alone.”  _

"He requested Anakin specifically?" What was Obi-wan getting at?  What did the Chancellor want with him? Sure he seemed really nice in the vague memories of the celebration on Naboo three years prior, but he was just a padawan among many. Obi-wan was gazing at him with an expression that Anakin couldn’t place. 

_"Yes. I did not go into specifics."_

Obi-wan gently cleared his throat, and the strength of his gaze almost made Anakin want to look away. “Please inform the Chancellor that my Padawan will not be visiting him today.” 

_ “Excuse me?”  _

“I refuse.” Anakin didn’t know how he felt about that. Obi-wan’s jaw was clenched, brows furrowed as if he was thinking about something important. His voice was soft, but Anakin could have sworn he could feel an icy edge to the cultured tone. 

“ _ You can’t refuse the Chancellor of the Republic.”  _

“I believe I just did. Have a good day, Master Windu.” He cut the com off quickly, letting his arm fall to his thigh. After a moment a warm smile pulled at his lips. “How do you feel about working on your katas, Anakin?”

“Why did you refuse?”

Obi-wan stretched with his arms above his head as he stood, twisting side to side as he asked, “Did you wish to visit the Chancellor?” 

“Not particularly.” Especially with the chance that Obi-wan might teach him the next set in the sequence of katas. “Just, abnormal for you to refuse.”

"Don't you find it rather odd that the leader of the Republic has taken time out of his busy schedule to ask to speak with you alone more than once?" Obi-wan hummed quietly. The situation did seem funny to Anakin, but he couldn't figure out why such a thing could be viewed as bad. With a shake of his head, Obi-wan changed the subject. “We’ll talk about it later, Anakin. First position.” 

Anakin pulled his saber from his belt and gripped the handle softly. Something was wrong with all of this and it frustrated him that he didn’t know how yet.


	5. Chapter 5

For the first few months of his apprenticeship, Anakin remained temple bound. The first time he was allowed to accompany Obi-wan on a mission was when he was sent to the Senate’s gala as added protection. Anakin forgot the name of the Senator who was important enough for a Master Padawan pair to be sent. He was simply too excited to be on his first real mission of any sort to care. Not that he would tell Obi-wan that because he didn’t want to be scolded for not listening thoroughly enough again. A droid had tried to offer him a drink, but even with Obi-wan’s back toward him, he knew he was being watched and had refused. Obi-wan was over mingling with a tall dark-skinned man with a beard. Whoever he was, he was making Obi-wan laugh if the slight shake of his shoulders was anything to go by.

Even though the gala was held after sunset, Obi-wan was still wearing his protective coverings and mask. While all of it had been cleaned and the mask had been repainted recently, when they had walked in Anakin could feel the shift of the room. Obi-wan didn’t seem outwardly affected by it, so he tried to ignore it to varying levels of success. Taking his eyes off his teacher, Anakin looked around the room for anything out of the ordinary. Other than a few species that he was sure he’s never seen before, nothing jumped out at him. He was sure that he's never been somewhere so elegant and fancy, other than the Naboo palace in Theed. The large windows along the outside wall that led to the adjacent balcony were wide open much to his teacher's dismay he knew. The air blew the white curtains to billow slightly and if he tried hard enough he could hear them rustle under the sound of the band, glasses clinking the dozens of voices. From his spot near the stairs that lead towards the front foyer, he could see most of the room. He leaned his elbow against the end of the banister and sighed deeply. The spread of food across the way was looking more and more delicious, but he was on lookout duty and he wouldn't fail Obi-wan because his tummy was grumbling a little.

Anakin turned when he heard someone clear their throat, and was surprised to see the Chancellor behind him. The elderly man smiled warmly, “Hello, my boy. How are you enjoying the gala?” 

Remembering his etiquette lessons, he quickly bowed. “Very well, Chancellor. Thank you for asking.” 

Even with the average number of layers a Jedi wore, Anakin could never understand how someone could wear as much fabric as the Chancellor was. The deep red robe looked like it was swallowing the man whole, like one of the carnivorous plants he learned about in his lessons the week before. “I must say I was disappointed your Master declined my request.” 

At the mention of his teacher, Anakin flicked his gaze toward him. It was easy to pinpoint where he was, the training bond bright between them. Even so, Obi-wan felt different in the force than many other's Anakin had met, but the good kind of different. His comforting warmth was so different than Anakin was used to attributing to sunlight growing up. Obi-wan was still talking with the group of senators across the way, but his body was turned so his side was toward him instead of his back. His left hand was placed on his hip, fingers brushing his saber by sure coincidence. “Well, sir, he only felt it was odd you requested me alone is all.” 

“Oh, I promise it was all in good faith! You helped save my planet Anakin. It’s only fair I care about how you’re doing. You’re meant for great things, my boy.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all, but each time the Chancellor referred to him as my boy his skin crawled. Was it rude to walk away from the leader of the republic without reason? Would Obi-wan scold him for doing so? Luckily, the conversation shifted. Unluckily the Chancellor decided Obi-wan was a good topic. “Does your Master always wear the coverings?” 

What an odd question to ask. “He does.” 

“Is there a reason? “ Slowly, Anakin turns his head to look back at the Chancellor. Sure, most of the attendees to the gala were wearing layers of expensive cloth and fine jewelry, but as Jedi, such lavish things being desired were frowned upon. To Obi-wan, his mask was just like the way Kel dors like Master Plo Koon needed to wear his breathing apparatus; just his way of living. Where was the Chancellor heading with this? Anakin narrowed his eyes as he studied the old man, suspicion growing as his mind worked through what possible motives Palpatine could have. “Wearing such crude and abrasive pieces of clothing to a gala such as this without a good reason rather unbecoming.” 

“There is a reason, but it’s none of your business!” The music screeched to a halt and in the back of his mind, he was aware that everyone was slowly focusing on the pair of them. “They’re a part of who he is and it’s beautiful and you’re very wrong!” 

The Chancellor’s shocked expression was cut off by Obi-wan stepping between them. His right arm was back to wrap around Anakin as he bowed his head and said something to Palpatine. Whatever it was, Anakin didn’t know. There was too much anger and stimulus around him for his mind to focus. How in the world did Obi-wan get across the room so quickly? Anakin vaguely recalled being told that Obi-wan's species gave him unique abilities, but he mostly thought that meant he's restricted diet. When Obi-wan grabbed his wrist and tugged him, he followed without question. Through one of the large openings, curtains softly flapped against his skin as they turned the corner abruptly, and he’s sure there’s a door that opens and closes. Soon Anakin was placed on a rather comfy chair. Obi-wan is suddenly kneeling before him, both hands reaching up to unclasp his mask. The moonlight through the window illuminates them in the darkness of the room as Obi-wan pulls down the black cloth to reveal his face once the hard mask is placed beside him. “Are you going to explain to me what that was, Anakin?”

Anger was something that the creche and his other teachers focused greatly on the first few years at the Temple, but tried as he might none of the tools he was taught seemed to lessen the fury he felt as he curled his hands into tight fists in his lap. “He insulted you! I couldn’t just let him get away with it.” 

Obi-wan’s hand moved from where it was resting on his knee to rest over both of Anakin’s fists. “Breathe in and out, Padawan. You need not be angry about something as mundane as an insult, even as sweet as the gesture is.” 

“But Obi-wan he-”

“It is not the first, nor will it be the last, ignorant comment made about my appearance and who I am.” Latching onto Obi-wan’s hand like an anchor, Anakin forces himself to breathe in deeply. A part of him wants to be angry still because of how unfair it all was, but he knew he could be better than this. There’s a comforting smile on Obi-wan’s face as he continues, “I’ve dealt with it my entire life, Anakin. It’s not worth your anger.”

“That doesn’t make what he said right!” 

“It doesn’t. I am sorry I left you alone. I should have excused myself the moment I heard him talking to you.” 

That pulled Anakin’s thoughts up short. “Wait what? You were halfway across the room!” 

Obi-wan laughed, so light and kind. “There’s much about me you still have to learn, Padawan.” 

\-------

Later that night, curled up on one side of the bed, Obi-wan can feel the dip of the thin mattress. Not bothering to open his eyes, he snuggles further into his pillow and quietly asks, “Is something wrong, Anakin?” 

The boy’s heart rate spikes for a moment and Obi-wan shakes his head to refocus on something other than his student’s heartbeat. “Are you mad at me?” 

With a deep breath, Obi-wan finally turns, looking at the young boy in the dark. From the looks of things, he hadn’t slept much, with his hair and sleeping tunics in disarray, and the sleepiness in his gaze. His brow is wrinkled as he deeply frowns. Obi-wan pushes up onto his elbow, finding the bedside light switch to illuminate his padawan in a warm glow. He blinked a few times rapidly to get his eyes adjusted before asking the boy, “Is this about what happened earlier?” 

Anakin's hands were behind his back, bottom lip tugged between his teeth for a long moment before he finally nods. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Sometimes Obi-wan forgets how young Anakin really is. While incredibly talented with a saber and powerful in the force, he’s just a young boy trying to learn how to navigate the galaxy. It doesn’t help that his teacher is considered a freak by more than half of it. “I am disappointed that you yelled at the leader of the Republic, but I cannot be mad at you for trying to protect me. That’s what we’re supposed to do, protect each other.” 

Anakin’s shoulders aren’t so tense as he rocks back and forth slightly. Obi-wan knows what’s coming, even if it’s only happened a few times in their short apprenticeship. “Can I sleep here tonight?” 

Obi-wan lifts the blanket without a word, but he’s smiling as Anakin curls up beside him. The last word said that night is the small, “Thanks,” Before the boy drifts off to sleep quickly.

\------

Waking up, Obi-wan expected to either have his blanket completely stolen by his Padawan or find the boy on his floor surrounded by something he had taken apart. His own Master sitting on the small chair across the way was not on the list of possible morning outcomes. Anakin was still sleeping, ever-growing limbs starfished out from him in a way that made Obi-wan know he’d have bruises forming later from contact during the night. His blanket was still over his legs, even if Anakin did manage to wrap most of it around himself in a way Obi-wan's sure only he can manage. He squinted from the light lit above them, cursing its existence and his Master for turning on the diabolical thing. He's also pretty sure that Qui-gon shouldn't know the code to his room. “Padawan, what are you doing?”

He thought that it was pretty simple to figure out, but he still managed to grumble out. “Trying to sleep.” 

Qui-gon huffed loudly through his nose, “The Council has been trying to contact you all morning.” 

“Must have turned off my com last night.” In his sleep dazed fog, Obi-wan’s eyes fall to the way Qui-gon’s fingers are tapping on the top of his cane as he rested it between his slightly spread legs. “You’re never one to do the Council’s bidding, Master. Even when a mission requires it.”

Anakin grumbles quietly as he scrubs at his face before stilling as sleep takes him under again. Obi-wan really wishes his former Master would leave, and half wonders how the man got the code to his door, but before he can contemplate those thoughts for too long Qui-gon’s eyebrow is lifting. “A few months with your Padawan and you’ve refused an audience with the Chancellor and he’s yelled at him at some fancy gala. Really, must be a record of how quick to anger the Council, Padawan mine.” 

“Mm,” He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about ignoring Qui-gon and trying to sleep, before deciding against it. “Anakin went about doing what he believed was a good thing in the wrong way. I’ve handled it.” 

"We will see just how well you handled it, Obi-wan." Qui-gon made a noise and Obi-wan was too tired to distinguish what it meant. The loss of his scent from the room told him his former Master was gone before the door sliding close and the silence alerted him to that fact. There was something off about his blood that Obi-wan marked for later in his mind to check out more closely. 

First things first, he was going to sleep another hour at least. Second, he was going to eat something, and then he was going to change the code on his damn door. Then he’d figure out what was causing the familiar scent of Qui-gon’s blood to smell so different. As sleep tugged at him again he felt one of Anakin's arms fall against his side, and made a sleepy mental note to get another blanket from the Temple's quartermaster. Just in case another sleepover occurred. One could never be too well prepared when Anakin was involved. 

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here soon they'll be a little time jump, but Thank you to Pink_Saber for the idea of Palpatine insulting Obi-wan and Anakin not liking it <3


	6. Chapter 6

Anakin rushed off to his morning history class after a quick bite to eat. Obi-wan had started keeping small things in his fridge for when his apprentice was hungry. The boy was hungry more often than he was and things like apples and jars of prepared peaches always came in handy for a snack. When he had first shown Anakin the selection of food, Obi-wan had been nervous he’d be weirded out by the fruit being stored in the same area as his blood bags, but he soon found that anxiety was ill-founded. Anakin’s ease and immediate comfort around Obi-wan’s feeding was such a pleasant feeling. After eating and sending Anakin on his way, Obi-wan headed to find his former Master. It wasn’t like Qui-gon to care much for the Council, especially not enough to wait for him to wake up like he had that morning. Given the time he should be in the middle of his physical therapy session in the halls of healing. 

While the Temple was a very well lit building, Obi-wan had quickly memorized his way through the halls avoiding any windows or skylights. Sometimes it involved squeezing behind a large potted plant, but whatever it took to not have to wear his coverings all the time in his own home. He slipped into the halls of healing, popping his head in to say hello to Bant before following the dim feeling of his former Master. He was in the farthest of the two physical therapy rooms. The door slid open to reveal Qui-gon lunging on his bad leg, shaking a little from the effort. Master Che seemed to have believed the man could do his therapy without supervision with the lack of healer in the room with him. “Good morning, Master.” 

“Hello, Obi-wan.” Qui-Gon's eyes flicked over quickly as he straightened, grunting his reply. “I see you’ve finally ventured out of bed.”

“We both know rising with the sun has never been my forte.” The odd scent from before was far fainter than it was, but it still lingered just enough for Obi-wan to notice. “When you left my room this morning, your scent was off and still is now. Are you alright, Master?”

“My scent?” Qui-gon pushed his hair that had fallen into his forehead back before sighing. “Oh, you mean my blood scent. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting very strangely ever since Anakin became my padawan.” 

Obi-wan found a spot to sit along the wall, away from the beam of sunlight coming through the window along the far wall. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as Qui-gon swallowed his drink of water. “If Anakin was meant to be your padawan it would have been you who found him.” 

Oh, so that was it. “You still don’t believe I can do it.” 

“It’s not that exactly, Obi-wan.” 

“Than explain to me in simpler terms. I thought you had accepted that this was for me to fail or succeed at on my own.” The scent was stronger, swirling in a way that made Obi-wan visibly flinch. 

“Anakin is the chosen one. He shouldn’t be taught by someone who’s never had a padawan.” 

“I understand, Master.” Obi-wan knew he wasn’t a very good Jedi, one that almost didn’t make it, one that barely scraped by because of meddling, but he worked hard to become who he was. Maybe Qui-gon hadn’t chosen him to be his padawan by his own violation, but Obi-wan had believed that his Master was at least proud to call himself his teacher. He was doing his best to train Anakin. Sure the boy was temperamental and was very open with his emotions in a way children who grew up in the creche were not, but emotions weren’t harmful to a Jedi. Feelings were valid, it was how one reacted and dealt with those emotions that mattered. Obi-wan realized then that he shouldn’t be angry at his former Master’s feelings, but understand that they were valid even if the man was going about negatively working through them. “I know I'm not a very talented Jedi, but I'm trying my best and I thought I'd have your support in the next step of my life. If you don’t wish to be involved as Anakin’s grandmaster, I understand that too, but anger and bitterness don’t look very good on you Master.”

And with that, he stood, spun on his heel and left the room without another word.

\-------

“Care to explain what happened last night at the Senate’s Gala, Padawan Skywalker?” 

Anakin chewed on his bottom lip as the High Council gazed at him. When Obi-wan gently squeezed his shoulders, he let out a soft breath. “Chancellor Palpatine approached me while I was on lookout duty, Masters. He began asking questions about Obi-wan’s coverings. I felt his comments were rude, so I told him as such.” 

“You felt that his comments were rude?” Anakin turned his head a little to look at Master Windu. He had seen the man smile once in the years he had been at the Temple, but he still felt like that was a weird dream he had.

“Yes, Master.” Council meetings made his tummy queasy. Even if he wasn't in trouble like he was now, he always felt like he was about to get scolded. "He called Obi-wan's mask and covering ugly and crude."

“Despite whatever comments the Chancellor may have said, you caused a great scene and disrespected the leader of the Republic.” Windu softly continued, “It was not your place to speak as such to him. Your actions require due consequences.” 

What did he mean consequences? Did that mean the Chancellor could say whatever he wanted without being corrected or told he was wrong? Did that mean that Master Windu believed Obi-wan’s coverings were crude like the Chancellor viewed them as? He gripped his hands into fists at his sides as he tried to breathe deeply. Getting visibly angry wouldn’t do him any good. He didn’t want to make Obi-wan look bad. He was a great teacher no matter what anyone said. Before he could say anything though, Obi-wan’s crisp voice cut through the silence. “With all due respect Masters, this was the first time that Anakin had to bear witness to the prejudice I must deal with being who I am. While the outburst is still uncalled for, he’s learning. Whatever punishment you deem worthy of his behavior, I should be given it instead. It’s my species that caused the disruption.” 

“His punishment, you want?” Anakin never knew how to read the Grandmaster of the order. Most of the time he was silent as he observed the world moving on around him, but Anakin could remember Yoda teaching classes to the creche and visiting the other younglings. Still, Obi-wan didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t deserve to be punished. 

“Yes, Master.” 

Yoda chuckled lowly under his breath, his little head and ears twitching before his fingers flexed on his cane. “Punishment, there will not be. About time Obi-wan was supported, it is.”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read somewhere about the pot that Obi-wan made that Yoda kept until Dogabah and now Yoda has a soft spot for Obi-wan in my head, okay? 
> 
> And Qui-gon's gonna get his head out of his ass here shortly, he's just working through his feelings horribly.


	7. Chapter 7

One of Obi-wan’s favorite places in the Temple was the bookshelves in the far back of the Archives, from before datapads, computers and droids were used to catalog all the information. There was something about the weight of a book in his hands that filled him with a sense of tranquillity in him. The way he had to blow the dust from the covers, the feeling of the old thick parchment on his fingertips as he flipped the pages, and the soft swoosh as the pages fell all satisfied him in a way datapads would never. It was also here covered in years of dust and under a torn scroll that he had found the only reference to his species when he was a youngling on Archive duty for fighting with another boy. 

That book had been given to him by Madam Nu and he had read it back to front a dozen times trying to figure out what he was and what that meant if he was going to become a Jedi. That almost hadn’t happened, no one wanting to take the youngling that burned in the sun and was only able to drink blood like some freak as a padawan. Too much hassle he heard as he walked by in whispers and adverted gazes. If it wasn’t for Master Yoda, Obi-wan wasn’t sure if he’d be where he was now. Not that growing plants in the bright sunlight seemed like the right place for someone like him. It usually sat on the small shelf in his room next to his few keepsakes he owned, but now it was held in the crook of his elbow. 

This part of the Archives was also lit with artificial light, but it was golden in color and almost warm, reminding him of what the sun should feel like. Sometimes he’d take datapads with him back there, finding peace and quiet in such a forgotten place. He was sure that most people would get lost this deep into the stacks, but he had explored most of these shelves growing up. Here there weren’t other children to tease him when he fed. Here he didn’t feel any different than those happily going about their day in the bright windows of the main Archive Hall. He hadn’t shown this place to anyone, not even Qui-gon. Madam Nu had found him twice in all the years he had escaped here, but that was when he was really young and missed check-in at the creche.

Anakin was staring with wide eyes as he walked behind him. He was growing again to Obi-wan’s dismay. He wasn’t that short, to begin with for a human adjacent man, but he had a feeling that Anakin would follow his Former Master in being above average. “What is this place, Obi-wan?”

“This is the oldest part of the Archives before they transferred most of the information onto datapads and files.” He glanced over his left shoulder with a small smile. “I find it rather comforting.”

“Sometimes you’re a giant nerd, Obi-wan.” There was no malice in the tone of Anakin’s soft voice and the expression on his face as he came to walk beside him was gentle and kind. “Why are we here?” 

“You asked me to learn more about me, did you not?” 

“Well yeah, but what do dusty books have to do with that?”

Obi-wan sighed fondly. Why did he care for this unabridged chaos of a boy? “I spent most of my free time in the Temple here growing up. I did my homework here more than anywhere else. I’ve never shared it with anyone else.”

“Really?” Anakin’s heartbeat spiked for a moment and Obi-wan mentally reminded himself to get more blood from the commissary. “Nobody?” 

With a shake of his head, he offered the book. Anakin gingerly took it, running his left palm over the cover delicately. “Being my Padawan Anakin means having to understand what I am. You’ll find that the majority of people unfortunately feel like the Chancellor does about how I present myself. I’m different, near-human but not human enough to be completely accepted. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. Before we venture on missions together I think it best we talk about it.”

“I do have a lot of questions.”

“Why don’t you read that for me and I’ll answer all you have?” 

It took a moment, but the grin spreading on Anakin’s face was bright and innocent. “I’d like that a lot, Obi-wan.” 

He allowed himself a few moments to wallow in the warmth that Anakin’s pure curiosity of his species made his chest feel. The boy had never shied away from it, more often than not being intrigued, but never fearful. It wasn’t often he met someone like that. Dex had and so had Master Yoda and Plo Koon. Shaak Ti still ruffled his hair when he didn’t have a mask on as if he was a youngling once again. Anakin accidentally knocking over a stack of books in his rush to sit down took Obi-wan out of his reverie. He caught them from crashing down with a handheld out, the force slowly letting them rest on the ground before he withdrew. Anakin smiled bashfully, but Obi-wan couldn’t find it in himself to scold the boy. He was just enthusiastic and with how the boy hated reading, Obi-wan counted that as a win.

\-----

Obi-wan made a point to never put himself in the position to ever need a live donor for food. He always ate before he left the Temple, even if it was a supposedly simple mission or if he wasn’t that hungry. A few times his preemptive action had prevented him from needing to result in more drastic measures during his padawan days, and while Qui-gon had made it clear he’d give him blood to sustain him, having the offer and taking him up on it was another thing. He had read a lot about his home planet and his species growing up. The healers in the halls of healing had very little knowledge of what he was, even with the vast history of the order and the numerous types of species that rose through the ranks. There wasn’t much in the archives, but there was just enough for him to get the understanding that once he knew what it felt like to drink from a living humanoid source, the desire to do so again would overpower the logic of drinking from bags. 

There had only been two times that he had to result in taking a live donor. When he was thirteen left behind by Qui-gon on Malinda/Daan. Cerasi had volunteered her wrist for him to drink from and in desperate times one changes their boundaries to survive. The second had been on the run protecting Satine. The young woman had also offered her wrist for him to feed one late night under the stars when the shaking of his body and the pain in his core got too bad to ignore anymore. 

But try as he might, no one can plan for an emergency landing on some unknown planet, and the food supplies onboard will be destroyed during the process. Obi-wan tried his best to protect Anakin from the impact, focusing the force around the fourteen-year-old in a sort of protective bubble as the green ground beneath them rushed ever closer. That was the last thing Obi-wan remembered, the ship around them burning, metal crushing against his body, and Anakin’s increasingly panicked voice before he completely blacked out.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how old Shaak Ti or Plo Koon is, BUT I have this picture of members of the High Council knowing Obi-wan as a baby and habits translating over time lmao anyway hope you enjoy this~


	8. Chapter 8

It was hard to focus on anything around him with the pounding of his head and the pain ripping through his body as he came too. Obi-wan groaned as his eyes slowly opened, squinting as the light around him rushed forward. “Obi-wan?”

He knew that voice, knew it well, but his mind was slow to put the pieces together. His vision was spotty as he opened his eyes more, the image of someone above him blurry around the edges. He didn’t feel like his skin was burning, so wherever he was was out of the direct sight of the sunlight. “Obi-wan, please wake up.” 

Oh, Anakin. Suddenly everything snapped into place. The diplomatic mission to Aurea, Anakin being so excited to be going on his first mission off of Coruscant, and the asteroid storm slamming them out of hyperspace. His throat felt thick as he tried to speak, “I’m… here.” 

“Oh thank the Force!” But his voice was suddenly distant, and Obi-wan didn’t fight as he slipped unconscious again.

\-----

Just down the hill the remains of their ship had just finally stopped smoking. Anakin turned from the view to look at his Master, curled up after the makeshift shelter he had tried his best to put together. It wasn’t the best stranded shelter, but Anakin had to work fast to get his injured Master out of the sunlight as quickly as possible. His mask had cracked from the impact, his tunics ripping from the metal piercing his skin, and one of his gloves clasps malfunctioned, leaving his right arm from the elbow exposed. Even with how quick he had worked, the sun had managed to burn Obi-wan’s unveiled skin. 

He had tried his best to salvage what he could from the wreckage. The cockpit had mostly been destroyed. He wasn’t sure how he had made it out with nothing more than a few bruises, but his Master probably had something to do with it. He had tried to use his wrist com to contact the Jedi Temple, but the range wasn’t far enough. The medical supplies had been his first priority and helping get Obi-wan well enough to wake up. Some of the bacta he had found was spread on Obi-wan’s burns. Setting what Anakin assumed as a broken leg wasn’t something he remembered learning, but he figured as long as he stabilized it like he had seen done on other people, he figured it would hold until someone rescued them.

Obi-wan had woken up again last night, longer than before, but not long enough to try and speak a full coherent sentence. The sun was about to set and the temperature would drop significantly. From what he had seen on his limited scouting, there wasn’t a village or settlement or natives near here, but there were huntable animals running through these woods. He had managed to catch a rabbit to eat the night before. There was a stream running around the curve of the base of the hill, full of clear drinkable water. But as he wrapped his arms tight around him to warm up, he hoped that his handmade communication device managed to signal help. 

He pushed off the log he was sitting on and kneeled beside Obi-wan, adjusting the blanket over his body carefully in fear of aggravating the man’s injuries. He used the canteen he had fished from the wreckage and poured some water on the piece of cloth he had ripped from the end of his robes. Once it was damp, he gently patted the cut on Obi-wan’s forehead, one that no matter what Anakin did continued to barely bleed. Not enough to bleed out, but enough to be annoying. Once it was fairly clean, he stood in search of more firewood. His stock was low and wouldn’t keep the fire going throughout the night. Obi-wan had more resistance to extreme temperatures compared to normal humans, and much more that Anakin had to the cold.

After one last look at Obi-wan, frowning at the unnatural way the man was laying down, he slipped down the southside of the hill. 

\------

Anakin stepped over the crest of the hill, arms full of different size pieces of wood, and huffed as he trudged toward the slowly dying fire. A few pieces were tossed and with a little help of the force, pushed a few dried leaves underneath as a quick fire starter. He was setting up the rest of the wood when he heard the rumble of a familiar voice. “Anakin.”

His neck cracked with how quickly he looked to his left. In the strengthening light of the fire and the duel moons in the sky, he could see that Obi-wan had managed to move himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily onto the tree behind him. His skin was sickly pale, forehead visibly damp, but his eyes even while tired, were warm and there was a smile on his face. “Obi-wan!” 

He was half sliding in the grass beside the man a moment later, grasping for his hand, smiling widely as Obi-wan gave it a firm squeeze. “I am pleased to see you alright.” 

“Don’t worry about me, Obi-wan. How do you feel?”

“I’ve had worst, if you can believe that.” He gives a light laugh before grimacing, frowning. After a few, quick short breaths, he calmly stated. “Report, Padawan.”

“Most of the communications on the ship were destroyed in the crash, but I managed to salvage enough to make what I believe is a device sending a distress signal.” Anakin squared his shoulders, wanting to make sure he did all he was supposed to as he continued. “The ship isn’t repairable, not with the resources here. It’s been almost four days. This planet has daylight for 6 hours, and darkness for 18.” 

That made Obi-wan grin. “My type of planet.”

“You’re really hurt and I’ve tried my best but,” Anakin smiled sheepishly. “Healing has never been my strong suit.” 

“You’ve done very well, Anakin.”

\------

He didn’t need to look over his injuries too closely to know he had a few ribs broken. His leg hurt the most though and would prove to make walking completely impossible. Just moving to sit had been excruciating. But even with all of his physical injuries, Obi-wan knew the telltale signs of blood deprivation. His fangs were long, his skin was uncomfortably tingly and clammy, there was a deep ache in his chest, and he had caught himself tapping his two fingers against his thigh to the beat of Anakin’s heart five different times. The only thing the boy had caught to eat was a squirrel that morning, a small little thing that Obi-wan couldn’t bring himself to take anything from. He could last a bit longer before the pain of starvation got too much for him. 

Anakin looked up from across the fire, arms tight around his knees as he hugged his legs. Obi-wan knew he was trying his best to find him some food, but they were playing with dangerous little time. “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Your hunger. Does it hurt?” 

“Sometimes.” He gives a little smile, before quickly closing his mouth, realizing his fangs had never been this long in front of Anakin. “I’m alright for now.”

“I meant,” The boy stopped abruptly, before huffing, pushing off the leaves of the ground. “Does it hurt now?” 

“A bit.” The boy walked over, lips pressed together as he slowly knelt beside him. Obi-wan shook his head. “I’m fine. I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too bad.” 

The expression on Anakin’s face was a bit familiar, but he couldn’t place it completely. His eyes were lowered, looking at his hands he had clasped in his lap. It was a long moment, too long, before Anakin spoke again. “The book said that feeding can help with healing and increasing one’s strength.” 

“It did.” Obi-wan squinted, having a sneaking suspicion where this conversation was going.

“Unless you wish to suck the blood from a fish,” Anakin then looked up, blue eyes bright in the dim afternoon light on the other side of the thick canopy of trees above them. He unclasped his hands, turning the left one over so his wrist was facing up, and offered it hesitantly. “Drink from me, Obi-wan.” 

He gently lifted his own hand, fingertips soft as Obi-wan pushed Anakin’s wrist down. “I cannot ask that of you.”

“You’re not.” Anakin was a stubborn thing when he wanted to be, and pressed his wrist closer. “Please, Obi-wan.”

He could wait it out, hope that Anakin caught something big enough that he could drink his fill from. The young Padawan could go check the traps and have something good enough, or he could end up not catching anything before the pain of hunger had Obi-wan clawing at his stomach. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Alright. This might hurt at first.” 

Anakin’s smile was warm and full of relief as his hand was gently held by both of Obi-wan’s hands. One below his wrist, the other delicate on his fingers as it was lifted to his lips. Obi-wan kept his eyes on Anakin as his fangs punctured the skin, about to pull away at the flinch of pain flashing over the young boy’s face, but stopped when his other hand fell against his arm. His head shook softly, little breaths through his nose, before his eyes opened again. Obi-wan sucked gently at the blood oozing from the two puncture holes, eyes fluttering shut as the sweet warmth of it hit his tongue. He didn’t take much, not nearly as much as he would someone bigger, but it was more than enough to keep the hunger pains away long enough to hopefully be recused. The longer he ate the more relaxed Anakin became. Obi-wan knew his venom was numbing the area and acting more like a sedative for his ‘prey’. Once finished, he lapped at the two wounds gently until the bleeding stopped completely.

He ran his tongue over his lips, humming quietly. “Thank you, Anakin.” 

“Anything for you, Obi-wan.”

“How do you feel?”

“Mm,” Anakin was holding his wrist as his eyes slowly fluttered, as if he was about to fall asleep. “Woozy, but the ‘I need a nap’ kind.” 

“It’ll wear off soon. Come, lay down.” 

He didn’t have to convince Anakin for very long. He curled up alongside Obi-wan, hands under his cheek and knee pulled close to him. He was out before anything else could be said. With a little help with the force, an emergency blanket was pulled over and placed over the small boy’s ever growing frame, Obi-wan’s hand resting on his side and eyes looking off to the horizon. Watching the perimeter for danger or rescue. Whichever came first. 


	9. Chapter 9

Anakin lifted his head from the edge of Obi-wan’s bed when the door to his room in the Halls of Healing slid open with a soft hiss. Standing there was Master Qui-gon, big hands gripping the top of his cane as he came to a stop at the end of the bed. He looked worried, at least, Anakin thought he did as he gazed at Obi-wan in the bed. It had been a day since Obi-wan had been removed from the bacta tank and six since they were rescued. Anakin could remember sitting beside his teacher holding his hand much like he was now, and feeling him grip it tightly as the trip through hyperspace ripped open all of his internal injuries. By the time their ship had landed on Coruscant, the man’s already pale skin seemed ghostly and his head was lolled to the side as the stretcher was rushed into the Temple. 

“Hello, Anakin.”

“Hello, Master Jinn.” With his right hand, Anakin rubbed his eyes softly with a knuckle while his left hand stayed holding Obi-wan’s on the bed. It was the first time since they had arrived in the Halls of Healing that Anakin had seen the older Master. Whether or not he had visited at all while he was asleep or out of the room he couldn’t be sure. “Madame Che says he should wake up soon.” 

Qui-gon hummed, letting a hand fall on the wood of the footboard, tapping gently. He smiled as his gaze shifted over to Anakin, “Have you eaten recently?”

From the slight dampness to the strands of hair at the man’s temples, Anakin guessed Qui-gon had just come from his physical therapy session. Obi-wan had mentioned that his former Master still went to his appointments to try and recover to where he was before Naboo. “That depends. What time is it?” 

“Six in the evening.”

The last time he had eaten was early that morning before he had reluctantly gone to his galactic history class. If it wasn’t for the exam that was scheduled, and the fact Master Windu was in charge of the unit, he definitely wouldn’t have gone at all. “This morning, but I didn’t want him to wake up alone.” 

“I’ll make you a deal,” The old man stepped around the bed toward him slowly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll stay here with him while you go get something to eat. Bathe maybe.”

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he smelled his robes, embarrassed. The last time he had fetched different clothes had been a few days ago. “Promise to fetch me if he wakes up?”

Qui-gon let out a soft chuckle, gripping Anakin’s thin shoulder as he answered, “Of course.” 

Anakin gave one last look at his sleeping teacher in the bed before nodding, “Alright. I’ll be right back Obi-wan.”

With one last squeeze to his hand, he slipped from his chair and out of the room.

\------

Over the years, Qui-gon had visited Obi-wan in the Halls of Healing numerous times, probably more than he should have had to. Each varied in severeness, but it never made it any easier. Either did how old either of them got apparently. Once Anakin’s bright presence in the force drifted further away, Qui-gon sighed and leaned back in the recently vacated chair. He rested his cane over his legs, smiling softly as his gaze fell on Obi-wan’s peaceful face. Here in the halls of healing, he was safe to remove his coverings, or what was left of them from the crash. Qui-gon had taken it upon himself to see what was damaged and put in the order from the Quartermaster for replacements and repairs. It was the least he could do while he avoided visiting his former Padawan once he returned half bleeding to death from his supposedly simple diplomatic mission.

It wasn’t Obi-wan’s fault he had been avoided, not that he was likely to remember who had visited him while he was in the bacta tank or unconscious on the bed like this. Mace’s words rang in Qui-gon’s mind as he watched the steady rise and fall of Obi-wan’s chest. When the dark master had half stormed into the room after Obi-wan had left him to do his physical therapy, Qui-gon hadn’t known what to expect. A calm, yet stern, scolding had been at the bottom of his list. Without Mace though, he would have never sought to quell his inner turmoil and seek peace in the force for emotions he had been ignoring and misdirecting. 

“The last time we spoke, Padawan mine, we didn’t see eye to eye, but,” He let out a fond laugh, gazing at the way his fingers tapped against his cane as he finished. “We rarely ever do, do we?

“I know I should wait to tell you this, but I’m not sure if I can speak it at a later date.” After a deep breath, he finally looked up once again, but his eyes only managed to make it to his hand on the bed, at the man his fingers were gently curved and soft against the sheets. He scooted closer and gently took Obi-wan’s hand, his skin cool to the touch. “I was angry and disappointed that I had been refused by Anakin to be his Master, and upset with you that you had been chosen. I’ve been thoroughly scolded by how I’ve been acting. You are a fine Jedi and you are doing the best you can with Anakin.

“I should have told you sooner that you have become much more than just a pawn to get over Xanatos. I’m very proud of you Obi-wan and of being your Master.” He squeezed Obi-wan’s hand tightly, “I’m sorry I never told you sooner.”

He might have been imaging it, but he could have sworn the grip on his hand was returned. When he looked up Obi-wan’s eyes were still close and his face was still blank with sleep, but when Qui-gon loosened his fingers, their hands remained as pressed close as they once were. A smile tugged on his lips as he returned the grip once again. “There you are, Padawan.”

\-----

Anakin felt lighter and warmer as he headed toward the Halls of Healing. While he missed training with Obi-wan, it was interesting to learn from other Masters when it came to katas. Working with his lightsaber always helped clear his mind, as did working with his hands normally did. After a quick shower, he felt more at peace than he had since they first left for their mission. The padawan in charge of the front desk smiled as he passed and with a quick nod, Anakin continued on his way. 

As the door of Obi-wan’s room opened he expected to see Qui-gon or one of Obi-wan’s friends sitting in the chair beside his bed. Instead, he saw his teacher sitting upright, a bowl on the table over his legs, and Madame Che hovering over him. All eyes fell on Anakin as he stood frozen in the doorway. It was Obi-wan’s gentle smile that finally had the boy moving. “Hello, Ani.” 

“Obi-wan!” He was careful as he wrapped his arms around his teacher, pressing his nose into his neck. The man laughed quietly and a moment later he returned the embrace.

“It’s good to see you are well, Padawan.” As they pulled apart, Obi-wan lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “Are you alright?” 

“Just a few bruises. I’m fine, I promise.” 

Madame Che cleared her throat from the other side of the bed, bringing the attention to her once again. “Make sure to eat most of that Obi-wan and I’ll send someone in soon to change your IV, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

She folded her hands in her robe and smiled before heading toward the door. She paused for a moment and looked back at them. “And Padawan Skywalker?” 

“Yes?”

“Don’t let him convince you to aid him in his escape. I will find you.” She bowed her head and then disappeared around the corner. It seemed her threat wasn’t needed. Obi-wan didn’t mention any plan of escape from the Halls of Healing, instead simply lifting the red-tinted, steaming liquid from the bowl to gently sip at. It smelled vaguely of the bags of blood the man usually ate from in his apartment, but it was overshadowed by other vibrant flavors. 

Anakin sat in his chair, socked feet up on the bed with his boots on the floor under it, quietly telling Obi-wan of his classes and grades that he had missed while he was out from his injuries. The table was gently pushed away by a wave of Obi-wan’s hand as he turned just a little in the bed to focus more on Anakin. When a droid came in to change his IV, the man didn’t take his eyes off the younger boy, smiling at the retelling of the saber lesson with Master Windu that afternoon. “I think his saber is cool.”

Obi-wan snorted, head pressed into the pillow behind him, and eyes half-open. “Oh, believe me. He does too.” 

“Just, don’t tell him I said that.” Anakin shivered. “He might think I like him or something.” 

“Oh, Anakin. Master Windu isn’t that bad.” 

“I’ll just be happy when you’re well enough to be in charge of my teaching again.”

Obi-wan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled warmly, holding out his hand with his palm down, fingers gently wiggling between each pat against the mattress. “C’mere.” 

As if pulled on a string, Anakin climbed beside him on the bed, careful not to jostle him too much. Obi-wan’s right arm was around him, head leaning on top of his. “You did very well, Anakin. I’m here because of you, so thank you.”

His chest felt very warm, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he listened to his teacher’s kind words. The smile fell quickly as he took notice of the new red scars on Obi-wan’s lower arm. As if he knew what he was thinking, the older man hummed. “There’s not much they can do for the burn scars, but that’s alright.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop the sun quick enough.” 

“A little sun won’t kill me, promise.” Obi-wan let his left hand fall to the other side of him, hiding most of the scars from Anakin’s view, “You know, I’m going to need another Mask.”

“Master Jinn ordered you new coverings. They arrived at your quarters this morning.” 

“So I’ve been informed, but Padawan, look at me for a moment.” Slowly, Anakin did as he was told. Obi-wan flashed a kind smile before continuing. “Would you do me the honor of painting my new Mask for me?” 

Paint his mask? Anakin’s eyes widened, lips parting as he tried to find the right words for it. Obi-wan’s mask was just as important to him as his lightsaber, maybe even more for what it meant in protecting him. “You want…  _ me _ , to do it?” 

His amusement was bright and airy in the force, “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” 

“I’d love to!”

“Thank you.” A moment later, they had returned to their previous position nuzzled together with their heads resting against one another. “I only request you use the same gold paint. Everything else is entirely up to you.” 

By the time Master Jinn came to visit the subject of their conversation had changed more than once, but the force felt warm and at peace as Anakin slipped from talking. Hearing Obi-wan and Qui-gon talk was nice for once in a very long time, more like it had been before he had refused the older Master to teach him. Whatever had happened between them, Anakin approved of this development. He just hoped it stayed this calm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, Qui-gon got his head out of his ass, even if he took the easy way out talking to Obi-wan when he couldn't respond to his apology. He's a work in progress 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
